A Dark Dawn
by Joan-Of-Arkham
Summary: Orelion has always been told that your fate can never be changed,who you are is always written in your blood. At first, Orel had accepted that as her truth, her reality.But who really decides what is good and what is evil? The world wasn't black and white, but a constant indiscernible shade of grey. But in a war with the balance of humankind at stake, hard decisions must be made.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own any of the DC Universe Characters**

* * *

 **Chapter one:**

Commissioner James Gordon had to admit to himself that he was getting on in years. At three in the mourning his mind felt weary and his limbs tired, he rubbed his eyes beneath his wire framed glasses tiredly.

The east side of the beach was already cut off from the rest of the world by bands of yellow plastic tape; - it was like a whole other planet. The bone white beach sand was bathed in the constant flickering glow of red and blue lights, blues crawled all over the scene, an ambulance was off to the side, and at the very edge of it all Lieutenant Montoya was waiting for him.

The African- American woman looked how he felt – haggard and tired. She gave him a soft smile when he approached; it looked unnatural on her face.

"What do we have?" he asked already slipping a cigarette between his lips, and searching for his zippo in his duster pockets. Barbra was already really annoyed that he refused to quit, so he was mindful to keep so many of the little tickets for cancer at a minimum.

"Two floaters both children, no identification on em' yet"

They were passing by the ambulance now. Sitting on the steps to its open back door was a teen shivering like a leaf beneath the cover of a blanket while paramedics tried to soothe him. Gordon caught his shaky voice just as they walked by.

"They're alive in there man. There ain't no way no dead man can look like that."

Maybe it was the conviction in his voice but it made something nauseating crawl in Gordon's belly - the fact that the victims were children also didn't help any either. He turned to Montoya who had seemed to pause and look at the kid with a sympathetic look on her face, there was also something else in her expression but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

For now Gordon let it drop, but he was beyond the age where he brushed such things of as just imaginings. Gotham had that effect on people - you could never be too paranoid in this city.

When they reached the bodies Montoya stayed a healthy distance away, Gordon was surprised to see the sweat beading across her forehead, and the fearful way the whites of her eyes showed. She smiled a shaky smile and waved off his concern.

"I have a phone call to make."

Gordon hadn't eaten anything before he left and he was glad he hadn't. He could feel bile rising in his throat, the cigarette in his mouth dropped into the sand and he covered his mouth with his hands. He dropped the plastic cover over the bloated body - shivering uncontrollably while he stepped back.

The smell of decompose flesh and salt was lessened but the image was burned beneath his eye lids. Through the rotting skin he could still see the bone curdling terror etched in their features and the chilling awareness of the eyes made him believe that the dead teen beneath the sheet was very much alive.

 ** _They're alive in there man. There ain't no way no dead man can look that._**

Whoever did this to these kid's was a sick bastard that needed to be put down.


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own any of the DC universe characters. I only own my own oc's.**

* * *

 **Chapter two:**

The light of Orel's laptop screen cast a dim blue light over her in her hotel room. She leaned her chin on her closed fist - water dripped down the slender column of the dark throat from the mass of the dark damp curls piled on top of her head , which was currently **pounding** from lack of sleep.

The muted News images flashed on the tiny screen of the floor modeled TV - the images were silent but Orel already knew what they were reporting - two more dead teenagers had been found. The newly appointed Question, Lieutenant Renee Montoya had called her and informed her in the early hours of the mourning.

As she had asked her too. Although the woman owed her a favor, she was sure she had ratted her out to Bruce or the league by now. There were few people in the hero community that would willfully cross Batman.

She clicked her mouse key in rapid succession, taking in all the information filtering across her laptop screen,and piecing it together. She clicked the mouse freezing one particular image that caught her eye. A slightly blurry blown up image of Chuck Lahniuk - a shady white collar business man, burly and blonde - filled her screen. She zoomed in even more on the photo, not focusing on him but the building he was walking out of.

" Got you, you bastard" she muttered to herself, sinking into the cheap plastic desk chair. She reached for the hotel phone unwilling to use hers after answering Montoya's call earlier. Her time frame was getting slimmer and slimmer and Orel couldn't hide from the J.L.A's technology and the magic of Zatanna and Raven for long.

Her phone wasn't untraceable although it would take some time to trace do to the encryption on it, but Orel didn't want to chance making a second phone call and making herself easier to find, she wasn't going to let anyone stop her.

She dialed the number of one of the world's most fearsome mercenaries with so much as a second thought.

"To what do I owe this pleasure Ms. Fox "Slade asked sardonically. He was clearly not pleased with her early call , however Slade was never pleased in general with any of her calls in the recent days of their _...acquaintance_ so Orel hardly cared at this point. Instead she got to the point - she was never one to beat around the bush.

"Have you been doing business with a man by the name Chuck Lahniuk?"

There was rustling and then silence before he answered her. Orel assumed he had been in bed and her question seemed to interest him into sitting up. _Good_ , she needed him alert.

"And why does this particular individual interest you?"

"Don't play with me Wilson," she retorted tersely, he didn't need to know any other particular details about the situation - she was sure he already knew everything by now. She knew he kept tabs on everything about Gotham and any other place or person that concerned him.

In that respect he was very similar to Bruce - the only difference between them was that Slade had no qualms about killing to reach his intended goal, and he very much **_loved_** violence as a means to his end.

On the other end of the phone Slade sighed, and she heard him call for his butler Wintergreen. The sound's were muffled out by the man most likely holding the mouth piece of his phone against something. When he pressed the reciver back to his mouth he sounded different than his self assured self.

" You really plan on doing this... once you cross the line Orel there's no turning back - there's no more being a hero."

In this intimate moment between them - through their unwilling bond, Slade sounded like the man who had lost his family, who'd lost his eye to the love of his life, who had made his daughter into a killer and who unintentionally made his son a mute. Orel stared at the peeling floral patterned wall paper - the handle of the receiver held so tightly in her grip that the plastic threatened to crack beneath the pressure.

"There was no turning back the moment I took your life from you Slade - and there was no turning back the moment I was forced to kill innocent people. Lahniuk crushed my option of ever being a hero again. In the Justice League's eyes I'm a monster that needs to be put down or locked up. So I'm going to accept what I am and do what I want."

She knew he could feel it, the tumult roll of her emotions were too violent for her to block them away from him mentally. Orel wanted to hurt, to kill - her thrist for blood would not be sated - she wouldn't get back what she'd lost - and the hurt inside her wasn't going to go away - but she would have that mans life, of that much she was certain.

"I've had the files I have on him transferred to your secured email . I've done what you wanted, now let me get some sleep."

The line died without so much as a good-bye - the man had left and the sardonic mercenary had returned. She was glad for it, she didn't think she could handle Slade being human on the inside.

She went through the files in her email, taking her time to read each document, and compiling it with what she had already found. A plan had already started forming in her mind and she knew what her next move would be.

The hotel phone started to ring - and her heart slammed into her chest, so they already found her, she thought she might have a little bit more time. Orel shut her laptop and began packing what little belongs she had in her backpack.

She shouldered the strap of her bag and zipped up her hoodie, then she picked up the receiver.

"Orel are you there?" Richard voice filled her ear. His voice sound confident - he already knew where she was which meant he was stalling for time. Orel looked around he room for an exit, she could practically smell him coming.

"Not for long."

The receiver clattered to the floor, as she dropped it.


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own any of the DC Characters outside of my own OC.**

* * *

 **Chapter three:**

"nepo rood"

The wooden door nearly burst off it's hinges - but Richard couldn't get into the room fast enough, he wasn't surprised to find it empty, but he was disheartened. Zatanna placed her gloved hand on his shoulders reassuringly, her violet blue eyes sympathetic.

He scanned the room but knew he wouldn't find anything - Orel trained underneath Bruce and Oliver - she wasn't going to leave any physical evidence, she might have been young and blinded by anger but she wasn't stupid. Orel was on a mission and she was determined.

"She used magic to leave the room Nightwing. It might take me a minute but I can trace it"

Richard shook his head in the negative - Raven already told him about the changes in Orel's biorhythm - trying to latch onto her magically would only cause her soul to flare negatively in response - using her power in the height of her body changing was already likely making her sick to the point of death.

Besides he wasn't sure if Zatanna was truly on his side when it came to how to deal with Orel - but she had been persistent on helping find her and he couldn't deny her help . With her pregnancy, Raven was in no condition to leave the tower.

"We'll check the list of phone numbers she called from this room."

* * *

As soon as Orel landed in the courtyard of her old orphanage, she fell to her knees a began releasing the contents of her stomach into the grass. When there was nothing left she still heaved, snot and tears running down her face. She felt feverish and faint, she'd never get used to teleporting.

"My Lord. Are you alright young Lady?"

Gentle hands tried to help her up to her feet - familiar gentle hands that reminded her of times when they had been not so gentle to her. The grip on her arms tightened with tension. She grinned ruefully - sweat rolling down the side of her face - the nun holding her look so horrified that Orel was sure she had sprouted horns and a forked tail.

"Hello Sister Mary. I've come to collect a debt."

* * *

Slade was normally a patient man - as a mercenary he knew that patients was often times a virtue. And so when he entered his office to see playboy philanthropist Bruce Wayne idly admiring the view form the bay window in his office he was not immediately irritated.

"You have an amazing view " he commented lightheartedly, as Slade walked passed him to his seat behind his polished oak desk.

Slade set the manila folders in his hands on the neat surface of his desk, and sunk into his plush leather chair. Making himself comfortable. Orel had obviously not used a very secure phone line when she contacted him - he'd have a word with her about that later.

"It's probably nothing compared to the view you have at Wayne Enterprises, Mr. Wayne."

Wayne smiled but it didn't reach his hard sapphire eyes. His entire demeanor changed all in the space of seconds and he became cold and dominating. A side of him rarely seen in public, or outside his Batman persona.

"Tell me why she called you?"

"As her chevalier I simply cannot do that I am bound to her and I could never betray her wishes. If she has ordered me not to reveal her where a bouts than I will not. So ...it seems we're at a stalemate you and I"

Wayne narrowed his eyes in thought - frowning at his reflection in the glass. And Slade watched him carefully. There was nothing much that Wayne could hold over on him without it backfiring on himself. They both knew who was who underneath the mask - and they were both shrewd enough business men to know that taking out each other the white collar way would be a long tedious waste of time.

"Thank you for your time today Wilson" Wayne said - returning to his lighthearted - playboy image. The man could have been an actor the way he flipped his switches on and off. Slade admired the fluidity of it - he had to admit even he couldn't act that well.

"Always a pleasure Mr. Wayne"

Slade waited until he was sure that Wayne was completely off his office floor before he rang his security team.

" I need an office sweep for possible bugs and I want you to tighten the firewalls on our systems."

* * *

Sunlight poured from the small window onto Orel's clammy face - she groaned and rolled over on the small cot. When she opened her eyes she was greeted with a spinning room and the heaveily folded face of sister Adelines. She no longer felt feverish - but the nausea was still there.

"Drink this and take this" Sister Adelines stern voice commanded - holding out a glass of water and asprins. Orel did as she was instructed. When she was done the old croon took the glass and placed it on the squat nightstand beside the cot, then observed her with pursed lips."I never thought I'd see you again."

" I honestly only vaguely remember this place...but I know I never planned on returning."

Although her mermories were merky at best - she knew that much was true. Orel didn't get a pleasant feeling from this place. And the little mermories she could see clearly were of tamatizing events.

"Then why did you return?"

Orel pushed herself up into a sitting positon, her hair was still damp and it fell in heavy curtain of coiled curls around her shoulders.

She returned because she wanted the truth, She at least deserved that much after all the abuse she suffered at the hands of God's _benovolent_ children. She glared at the old woman from the side of her eyes, and felt a sick satisfaction at the look of fear the filtered across her face.

"Please. Sister Adeline your malice is unnessacary. There are no pearly gates waiting for you at the end of your life after what you did to me. The only thing that waits for you and your convenat sisters are the purging fire's of purgatory."

The sister looked thourghly outraged. Her eyes were alight with a livid expression, and she looked as if she wanted to slap her. But Sister Adeline did not dare raise a hand against her now, she was no longer a small helpless child who could not defend herself and understand that she had done nothing wrong to provoke the ire of her abusers.

"Hold you tongue you demon spawned whore" she hissed. Orel smiled brittlly, showing of the glistening stark contrast of her white teeth and newly aquired cannies against her dark lips .She could now see the fear on the old woman's face so clearly she was sure she could wipe it off and show it back to her.

"Your'e right about the demon spawn part, but the whore thing is really too much. " Orel leaned menacingly closer to the woman in front of her. Baring her teeth. "Your'e going to fucking tell me what I want to know sister - I've already lost my humanity. Sending you and all you're rotten core sisters into the lower levels of hell will leave no mark on my concious."


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own any of the DC universe Characters. I only own my OC's**

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

Wilson had been a complete and total bust .

Bruce slid into his car - leather squelching beneath his weight as he slumped against his door frame, and loosened the tie at his throat. The partition between the back seat and the driver's side came down and the no nonsense gaze of Alfred's pierced through him as effortlessly as it had when he was a child through the rear view mirror.

"Where to Master Bruce" Alfred asked in his clipped British accent, directing his attention to maneuvering the thick black body of his Rolls Royce into mid-mourning traffic.

His posture was stiff in his shoulder's and Bruce knew he was waiting on some semblance of good news. Bruce had never once dodge the responsibility of his decisions or backed out of the consequences to his actions. He had a strong moral code - and an iron sense of justice.

But he had seriously botched the current situation to the point where he was sure that he couldn't repair the damage. The pure look of hurt and betrayal radiating from Orel's eyes was enough to haunt him in his sleep. It was like losing Jason all over, like the hurt Tim felt when his parents died, or when Richard had silently departed form his side in cold fury.

It seemed that he had a special knack for mentally damaging children.

He was about to disappoint Alfred and direct him to Wayne manor, when his cell phone vibrated. He pressed the call button and pressed the device to his ear without looking at the caller I.D.

"Bruce Wayne speaking"

"Ah.. Hello - this is Ms. Honeycomb from St. Martha's"

Bruce sighed quietly on his end of the phone. He was expecting this call sooner or later - it was strange for a fifth-teen year old girl to fall completely off the map - especially when her adoptive father was constantly in the lime light . He ran his fingers through his hair and watched as cars fought for inch after inch of asphalt on the jam packed inner city streets, the lie he had prepared already effortlessly moving past his lips.

"Sorry - Ms. Honeycomb - but Orel hasn't been feeling to well and..."

"Oh that's quite alright .." Ms. Honeycomb said cutting off his apology. " When I saw her this mourning to inquire about the reason she'd been absent so much she still wasn't looking to well."

Bruce blinked. He choose his next words carefully - he didn't want to alert her counselor that anything was wrong.

"Yes. As I was saying earlier Orel hadn't been feeling to well but she was restless and really wanted to go to school." He laughed a little bit on the phone." She has me wrapped around her little finger, I can't deny her anything."

Ms. Honeycomb laughed as well and they chatted a bit more about Orel's current grades and school activities. The conversation was only half - hearted on Bruce's part - he was busy trying to formulate the best route to take. It was clear to him that he- as he was , was not going to make it in time.

He politely hung up the phone, then turned his eyes to Alfred who was already eyeing him and waiting for orders.

"Contact Nightwing - and Arson tell them that they need to be at St. Martha's now."

* * *

Orel stared hard a the grime covered concrete beneath her scuffed up, and worn out converses and ignored the dull throbbing pain in her scalp caused by thick meaty fingers holding tightly to her dark hair. She exhaled out of her mouth and breathed through her nose - trying vainly to calm herself.

After she'd left the orphanage the sickness had come back on her stronger than last time. Coiling in tight knot inside her stomach- reluctantly Sister Adeline had given her the truth. After this was all said and done - Orel would follow the small lead she had. It was only a name but it was a well known one.

 ** _Constantine. John Constantine._**

Right now she'd find where Chuck was hiding by using his son. Lucky for her Marcus Lahniuk was a bully and coincidentally attended her private school. It was a dangerous card to play by coming here but time wasn't on her side and Orel needed the quickest route to her goal.

A sharp tug forced her to look into dull brown eyes - Orel grit her teeth.

Marcus had a similar face and build to his father. He was overly built , blonde, and had sort of face that looked like it had been squashed flat. That wasn't the only thing he shared with his father however, he also had budding streak for violence - and sexual assault.

It had almost been to easy to get him to corner her alone. Marcus was nothing more than an animal - all he needed was the right bait.

He quirked his thin lips into a sick little smile and the ink wells in his pupils split over.

A wave of disgust washed over her, he was completely aroused.

Marcus pushed his bigger body against hers and she could feel the brick wall behind her scratch her through her uniform, and his semi-soft member pressed into her stomach.

"I'm going to have ** _fun_ ** with you" he sighed against her ear, heavy with meaning.

Something inside of Orel snapped at that moment -how many more girls had he done this to. Her reason was swallowed whole by unbidden rage.

* * *

Richard rounded the corner of the old store room buildings on St. Martha's campus - Arson nipping at his heels. He had been on the Watch Tower when he had gotten the call and luckily so had Arson. There was no one who wanted to bring Orel home more than him beside's the red head - they turned a corner and saw Orel holding a boy twice her height and size clean over her head by the lapels of his uniform blazer.

The boy was trembling - the seat of his pants were dark, and his face was a mask of colorless terror. Before he could even take a step closer, Orel's head whipped in his direction, her hair a wild disarray around her face. She pulled her lips back in a snarl bearing huge white fangs. Her expression was familiar - he'd seen it only a few times, like when Raven lost control of her Rage.

Richard was suddenly afraid. Not for himself but for the boy in her hands.

"Orel put him down" he commanded, stopping a few feet away. He held his hands up - palms outward. "We just want to bring you home."

" _Home_ as in that cell in the Watch Tower - or maybe a permanent grave this time" Orel snorted derisively. " I think I'll pass."

They way she looked at him now as if he and Arson were nothing more than the enemy hurt him more than he could imagine. She had every right to feel the way she did - Bruce,him, and all the people she trusted and looked up to had turned their back on her when she had needed them most. And treated her as a common monster when she had been confused and scared.

Orel turned to look at the frightened boy in her grip with a sugary sweet smile plastered across her face. If possible he managed to shrink even more on himself.

"We're done here anyway. **Isn't** that right Marcus?

Richard watched as Marcus nodded his head vigorously too afraid to talk. Orel's smile widened and without warning she tossed the boy away from her as if he weighed nothing. Arson couldn't even manage to shoot one of his arrows to deploy a cushion to soften his fall, Marcus's head hit the back of the concrete walkway with a vicious thud. He winced at the sound.

When he looked up. Orel had already vanished, wispy clouds of black smoke was all that was left. He went to check the boy on the ground.

"Lets search him find his student i.d., find out why she risked coming here."

He began patting the unconscious boys pockets, grimacing at the strong smell of urine - then he blinked and paused realizing that Arson hadn't move from his position at all. He looked up to find the man frozen staring off with a glazed look in his eyes.

"Arson" Richard bit out harshly , trying to get his attention.

* * *

Roy blinked then looked at Nightwing feeling sick. Remembering a promise that he had promised to himself never to break. He realized his promise was shattered at his feet.

When he had gotten hooked on the needle and Oliver had tossed him out without so much as a thought - he'd been hurt beyond his core, it had struck him to the very marrow of his bones, and left him a little meaner for it.

Not only that but his peers had began treating him differently as if he was something fragile that could break at any moment. He'd been disgusted and hurt by it, and even after Oliver sent Black Canary to find him and help nurse him back to his former self , a huge gap existed between them.

Looking at Orel just now - he realized that there wasn't a gap between them but a chasm, with Orel on the other side her back already turned on them.

They couldn't repair the damage and that scared him.

* * *

"We did this to her Richard" Arson muttered forgetting to use code names. Richard stood up and placed his hands firmly on the other man's shoulder's and shook him roughly.

"Get a grip we have to find her before she does something to hurt someone."

Arson looked at him with wide incredulous green eyes, and pushed Richard off of him. " What the fuck are you saying. She hates us. Even if we find her what does that change - She will never be our Orel- she will always resent us."

The look on Arson's face was a mixture of fear, desperation, and rage. It caused Richard finally to blow his fuse and he turned a blotchy red beneath his mask.

"Don't you think I fucking know that already... I ... I just want ..." Richard paused, feeling desperation creep up, clawing at his insides. He wanted his sweet smiling, goofy little sister back. He wanted to try and do what he should have done, hold her and tell her that every thing was going to be all right .

Richard looked at Roy - and realized he had accepted a pill just too bitter for him to swallow. Raven had always said to him that he never gave up hope. Right now in this situation that's all he could do. Hold onto his hope desperately until his fingers were brusied, bloodied and broken.

"Let's just try to find her."


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own any DC universe characters. I only own my OC's**

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

Carol gripped the brass railing of the Aparo Towers observation deck. A strong gust of wind tossed her hair wildly around her face as she peered down into the street eighty stories below.

She shivered, and gripped her shoulders. Up here in the dead of night Carol was isolated and alone. No one would care if she threw herself over the edge.

This was the only way...to maker herself clean. To wash away that dirty feeling inside of herself. She fell to her knees,but she couldn't do it, she was to much of a coward.

Carol stared to up into the smog blocked sky. It was like a cage, completely forsaken by god and cut off from the rest of the world.

 _'Come here Carol.'_

Carol screamed, shrieking in absolute terror, twisting and scuttling backward. Until her back hit the railing. The platform was completely empty. She squeezed her eye tightly shut, digging her fingers in her tangled blonde hair and pulling her knees up to her chest. She just wanted to be left alone, but ** _his_ ** voice was there echoing inside her head, beating against the walls of her brain.

What had she ever done to deserve this?

* * *

Gordon bullied his way through the people crowding the crime scene hoping to catch a glimpse of the body plastered onto the side of the street. Sometimes he had to wonder if it was just the city that made the people rotten or if it was just bred into the core of the people. Why were they so excited to see a woman's corpse?Was someones death some sort of entertainment?

Gordon made it to the edge - right at the yellow crime scene tap,he ducked right under. No one stopped him. Most blues recognized his face of the jump and didn't bother asking for identification.

Lucky or unlucky for him he'd been in the area when the call came in. He had been shocked at first - no one had jumped off the Aparo for the past twenty years. Not for a lack of trying but because the security was pretty tight do to the number of smaller businesses that rented out the office space.

Forensics hadn't managed to make it yet and the news crew was already crowding the area turning the place into an absolute circus. He blocked his face with his hand, avoiding the flashing cameras, and random questions thrown at him from various reporters.

Montoya wasn't as shy and met him half-way. He didn't ask about the situation the poor woman had clearly committed suicide.

"We got an I.D. ?"

Gordon started reaching for his cigarettes but his hand paused mid- way realizing that they weren't there. Barbra had hid them or probably threw them out. Hoping that a lack of their presence would help he cut down and eventually quit.

"Yeah names Carol Dunnely. Age 24 and a trust fund kid." Montoya said. They paused right over the body covered by a sheet of black plastic that didn't quite cover the blood stain staining the concrete.

Montoya bit her lip, hesitating.

"I know it probably has no connection what so ever but ... her eyes... its like the kids we found earlier, this morning ."

Gordon hesitated just above the sheet. A shiver ran down his spine. Swallowing he pulled the sheet back feeling the hair rise on the back of his neck.

A pretty pair of blue eyes stared up from a pretty-ish face. The girls head was laying oddly do to the crushed skull. Her expression was one of frozen terror. If not for the obvious signs of death Gordon might have believe the girl was still living and breathing, reliving whatever terror she had seen before she died.

He quickly covered her, unable to bare staring at her face for to long. He stood and dusted invisible dirt off his dress pants. From the look on her face - it was hard to believe this girl had committed suicide. There was a possibility that she had realized her mistake after she jumped, but for some reason Gordon didn't feel like that was the case.

"Have you looked at the security tapes yet?"

Montoya shook her head in the negative. Was it possible that they had a serial killer on the loose? God he hoped not. He was too old for these kinds of griefs.


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own any of the DC universe Characters. I only own my OC's**

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

Orel squeezed her eyes shut and could feel her head pounding relentlessly against the inside of her skull. Against her back was the cold glass of ceiling to floor windows, in front of her sitting strapped to a chair was Chuck Lahnuik. He was trembling, peering up at the high plaster ceilings of his twentieth floor loft, with wide pupils and a head full of hallucinations that weren't actually there.

He was proving to be stronger than he looked and the weight of using her powers was bearing down on her. Earlier when she had disappeared from both Arson and Nightwing her body had already been under strain. Teleporting from here and there was making her sick. And using her power right now wasn't making things better.

But years of training had her putting mind over body. And she ended up going to the only place that was safe enough to hide for a few hours, until she fully tracked down Lahnuik's trail.

Slade had not been happy to see her curled up and feverish on his office floor. She could feel his displeasure through their bond- but he didn't verbally make his displeasure known, and picked her up, and took her to his safe house across town.

Orel had only a small time to recover, at least enough to make it to this point. But it was enough.

Opening her eyes, she released her hold on Lahnuik's mind. He came to, gasping for air, and his chest heaving. She strode across the room clad in one of Slade's old apprentice outfits, minus his trademark burnt orange and metal accents. Leaving just the skeleton of the black nominex and bi-weave bodysuit.

Tilting her head, she peered at him through narrowed eyes, and dark lashes. She was furious at Lahnuik and she would have his life, but she realized he was just a small part of a bigger picture.

"Who are you supplying children too?And who order you to kidnap me and force feed me human blood?"

Lahnuik waited a moment to catch his breath, then spit at her feet.

"Fuck you, you little **bitch**."

Orel closed her eyes. She was trying to keep some symbol of heroism she knew but her time was running short and her patience was wearing thin. There was only a matter of time before Nightwing and Batman would be hot on her trail – after they had connected all the pieces together that she hadn't bother to hide.

She'd give Lahnuik one last time before she tore the information from his mind. Orel had avoided doing this from the beginning because just the short time she spent inside of his mind felt disgusting, felt physically slimy against her skin. The man in front of her was truly a sick dog that needed to be put down.

"Okay Lahnuik, we're going to play our little imagery game one more time."

She knelt over the man, cradling his head on either side with her tiny hands, and pressing her thumbs over his eyes.

* * *

Chuck was burning – he felt the smoldering heat on his skin, felt it concentrated in the red hot iron chains holding him down to the chair. He smelt his skin cooking, and his clothes burning. The chains around him tightened, digging deeper and burning into him further. The pain was excruciating …but it wasn't real.

"Your right, Chuck. This isn't real..."

He blinked his eyes shut, and when he opened them again he was in his apartment, and there was no more burning.

"… **But this is** "

Chuck let out a howl of pain, and it mixed in with the sound of the gun shoot. He crashed to the floor; blood blossomed on the leg of his white pants, and pooled beneath his curled body.

"This can only get worse Chuck."

Another **shot** , another **howl** , and another pool of **blood**. He was **crying** now. Hot _fat_ tears of **pain**.

"These reinforced concrete walls and soundproof windows are amazing. Almost like the warehouse you left me in. You can't hear screaming or anyone begging for help."

Chuck drug himself across the floor with his elbows. The only thing on his mind was escape. He heard her cock her gun, heard the tail tale sign of metal slide against metal, and the click of another round entering the chamber. Where would this deranged little bitch would put the bullet next?

"Right between the eyes of your son. You don't really care about him anyway right."

* * *

Orel followed Chuck's crawling form and the streaking path of blood against the pale marble floor and knelt beside looked up at her with huge terrified eyes. She saw in his expression that he finally understood that she would destroy everything until she got what she wanted. And that she did not care who was caught between the crossfires. She felt the satisfaction rolling around inside her when she saw Chuck finally give up. Crumbling at her feet.

"The Black Lamb corporation. That's all I know" he said to her through clenched teeth and shuddering breaths. Orel stood and backed away – she gave Chuck a smile of full blown gleaming teeth.

"Thank you for your cooperation."

* * *

Richard was at the door of the black bird with the wind roaring in his ears, and the propellers chopping and whirring over his head. His heart was racing, and he hoped that he was in time.

Everything had come into the light or at least enough to where he understood what Orel was really trying to accomplish and what her end goal was.

Marcus Lahnuik hadn't been as innocent as he seemed. The kid had various assault complaints against him and he ran with a not so great crowd. Remarkably enough the kid had no record with the police – even though Richard was sure he had had plenty of his share of run in's with them.

Looking further into it, his father had bailed him out on all those occasions, going so far as to make sure none of his son's incidents made it on file. Richard and Arson had gone to the hospital to question Marcus after he had come to, not feeling so bad for him anymore.

The boy had told him that Orel had forced him to tell her about his father. And that she had just kept asking questions about him.

It was Batman who had put the final pieces of the puzzle together after Richard had relayed the information. The night that they had found Orel feeding off of people in a lonely corner of warehouse on the edge of Hob's oven – they had been too shocked at the sight to actually really look at what happened in depth.

The only thing in their minds at the time was detaining and neutralizing a threat. And after the brutal treatment they foisted on her – she had refused to talk to them about what happened and some of the members of the league had assumed the worst. The loudest and the most vehement against her was Zatanna. The magician had claimed that Orel's dormant demon nature had taken over her. She claimed that there was no help for her.

But if there was no help for her then Orel wouldn't be doing this. Her reasoning was probably along the lines of killing of Lahnuik to prevent him from doing what he did to her, to others.

Marcus's father. Chuck Lahnuik, had owned the abandoned warehouse they'd found her in. One of several properties that masses of dead bodies were often found. All of the children and people inside the warehouse had been reported as missing, and Chuck was under the suspicion of not only human trafficking with the CIA and the FBI, but he was also underneath suspicion by the magical community for dealing with demon's and black magic.

"Are you ready?"

He looked at the red haired man at his side, readying the search light to shine inside of Lahnuik's safe house. Arson had also gotten himself together after losing his cool earlier, at least on the surface. He realized they had to get to Orel first before they dealt with everyhing else.

"Yeah" Richard paused. Then said it again a little firmer the next time. " Yeah. I'm ready."

* * *

Bright white light flooded inside of the dark interior of the Loft . Orel whipped her head around, gun still in her hand and pointed at Lahnuik. She grit her teeth and turned around , her fingers trembled on the trigger, and she slowly began to squeeze.

Several things happened at once. The ceiling to floor windows crashed behind her in a spray of glittering shards. Nightwing grunted behind her, rolling across the floors.

A shot went off. And nothing but the sound of the helicopters chopping blade, police sirens squealing in the distance, and a deathly silence could be heard.


End file.
